Chapter 63
Chapter 63
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 62
Chapter Title: Heralhazard
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“…….”
Entering the audience chamber of King Orpheus, I silently bowed my head in greeting.
It would have been a sight to make any other noble or minister explode in outrage over my rudeness, but this was essentially a private audience, so I saw no need for excessive formality.
And King Orpheus, pleased by this, flashed a hearty smile.
“You’re truly perceptive. You knew I don’t care for overly elaborate shows of respect.”
He said it was because he’d noticed from how Deia had knelt and followed protocol at first only to be dismissed immediately.
In truth, I’d only done it because I remembered that line from the game.
“Did you enjoy your time with your sister?”
“Yes, thanks to you, I got to tour the capital.”
“Hmm. That’s unexpected. I’d pegged you as someone with little interest in your sister or other family.”
Tapping his chin with his finger, King Orpheus abruptly rose from the throne and approached.
The grand archmage Rockpellican, standing to the king’s right, naturally followed behind.
“Well then, only the final trial remains. What would crush most people, you’ve splendidly overcome two of already.”
“…….”
“By defeating Magic Judge Tairn in the first trial, you proved your own abilities.”
Praising it as a tremendous feat, Orpheus clapped me on the shoulder.
“And in the second trial, by shattering my sister Elenoa’s long-standing nightmares, you showed comfort and healing.”
Strength entered the king’s grip. He clutched my shoulder firmly, as if to keep me from fleeing.
“Only the final trial remains. Once it’s done, the kingdom will officially recognize you as a black mage. A monumental event for the ages.”
In a kingdom that utterly rejected black magic, to directly hire a black mage and grant them an official position?
It would be the talk of the realm for years, and my name would undoubtedly be etched in history.
Of course, I couldn’t care less about any of that.
“And from the look of you, you’ve already guessed what the final trial is?”
“…….”
I saw no need to answer.
Unlike the first two, I’d known about this final trial ever since my initial imprisonment.
In truth, it was the king’s personal desire.
It was an entirely different matter from the previous two.
“You remember this note, don’t you?”
A crumpled slip of paper rested in King Orpheus’s outstretched palm.
It was the note he’d given me in prison, to be read if his faith in me ever wavered.
It contained the final words left by his father, the late king Opert, to his son.
- Simply, always be foolish.
For the last words of a king to his heir, it was incomprehensible.
No matter how you spun it, the phrase felt more like a curse than a blessing.
Gazing down at the note in his palm, King Orpheus mumbled as if vomiting out some deep-seated something.
Strength surged into the hand on my shoulder; he looked as if he was forcibly leaning on me.
“This is the final trial. You seem to know it already, so in truth, it may be the easiest one.”
Tearing his eyes from the note, he forced a relaxed smile at me, but he looked perilously fragile.
“Why did Father tell me, who must bear the weight of this kingdom, to be foolish?”
A question he’d likely thought unanswerable for eternity.
While the first two trials evaluated whether I had the ability to aid Griffin Kingdom’s citizens...
This final one was simply.
Simply to resolve the king’s doubt.
Suddenly, a story from an old scripture came to mind.
Joseph, one of Jacob’s twelve sons, who interpreted Pharaoh’s dream.
Just as he earned Pharaoh’s trust through interpretation...
If I unraveled the meaning of the late king’s words, I would earn his trust as well.
Yet my mouth wouldn’t open easily.
Even though I’d imagined this moment countless times, I had no certainty that King Orpheus could endure it.
That alone was my sole concern now.
Even in the game, taking the wrong route would shatter him upon realizing the truth.
From amnesia to delusions, hallucinations, phantom pains, and more—he’d shake the kingdom to the brink of ruin.
But.
There were routes where he overcame it all and grew, where he repented and vowed never to err again.
Because I’d seen such futures, I’d been able to confess to being a black mage.
“From now on.”
After a pause, I continued calmly to the king, whose pupils dilated with barely contained agitation.
“Please listen to my words with composure.”
“…….”
Gulp.
The sound of the king swallowing seemed to echo through the audience chamber. It spoke to his tension.
This was an episode from the game as well.
A linked quest from King Orpheus that pierced the core of the main storyline.
It began with the mystery of the late king Opert’s final words, unraveling the kingdom’s secrets and the royal family’s closely guarded truths.
It might sound like a mere curse on his son.
But it was a statement with enough weight to upend the entire Griffin Kingdom.
It revealed the origin of the kingdom’s absolute enmity toward black magic, the reason behind it.
It hinted that the royal bloodline’s identity and the deep roots of the Griffin name were rotten at their core.
“His Majesty’s father, the late King Opert, left those words purely out of thought for Your Majesty.”
“For me? What do you mean?”
As a father, he’d hoped his son would never touch the truth, yet paradoxically, that very testament would lead Orpheus to it.
The Griffin royal family’s nauseating hypocrisy.
Their self-serving double standards, deceiving tens of millions of citizens.
The fact that they stood atop mountains of corpses they’d piled up.
“Through countless wars and victories, Your Majesty’s ancestors, who established the glorious dynasty of the divine beast Griffin...”
The dust-caked truth, long buried, now saw the light of day.
“...were black mages.”
* * *
Thud. Thud. Thud thud. Thud thud.
“…….”
Long, resonant footsteps filled the silent corridor. We advanced wordlessly.
Each step carried weight, as if we were immersed in the moment.
King Orpheus’s pace quickened unconsciously, and the grand archmage eyed him with concern.
At the fork in the first-floor corridor.
Right led to the dining hall, left to the garden outside.
A Griffin statue stood there, as if demanding a choice between them.
A woman with her face veiled in black cloth emerged slyly from within.
[This is it. Just as you said, there’s something inside.]
I’d sent the black necromancer ahead just in case, confirming it.
Calmly, I gripped the Griffin statue’s wing and pulled down firmly.
With a grinding sound, the wing folded, and the wall behind began to slide open.
“…….”
“Hmm.”
Seeing this, King Orpheus and Grand Archmage Rockpellican lowered their voices in grim displeasure. They’d never imagined a secret passage in the royal quarters.
“Let’s go.”
I led the way inside. Suddenly, the path to the Verdi mansion’s basement from two months ago came to mind.
This passage was far more stable and refined.
At the bottom lay a record room resembling a library, shelves crammed with books and a massive desk at the center.
“This is...”
Griffin crests stamped everywhere marked it as royal property.
Brushing off dust, the grand archmage carefully pulled a book from the shelf.
He jolted in shock, eyes widening. No title, but the deep crimson suggested blood kinship arts.
And blood kinship arts were one of black magic’s pillars, alongside necromancy and corpse sorcery.
[What an incredible place. If I’d known about it in life, I’d have lost my mind trying to sneak in.]
Only death allowed the black necromancer such composure.
Otherwise, she might have rampaged, devouring every book in sight.
King Orpheus trudged heavily to the central desk.
A photo lay there beside ink-faded script.
“……!”
The king’s eyes twitched upon seeing it.
The photo showed a boy smiling brightly.
Evidently handsome, slightly small in stature, but with a smile that would win hearts.
And I knew his identity.
Luanes Luden Griffin.
The youngest son of the Griffin royal family 200 years ago, a bastard the king viewed as a stain.
Another name: Heralhazard.
The black mage who single-handedly nearly destroyed Griffin Kingdom, the culprit behind its obsessive hatred of black magic.
Beneath the photo lay stacks of letters, handwritten correspondence between the king then and Heralhazard.
All penned during his massacres, detailing troop shortages in cities, supply lacks—precise military secrets.
The closing ‘To my beloved son.’ stabbed painfully into King Orpheus’s heart.
Crumple.
Trembling hands crushed the letter roughly. Orpheus, seeing that the kingdom’s plague-like villain Heralhazard...
Was in fact the royal family’s own puppet.
Tears streamed as he slowly turned, glaring at me.
“You...”
His voice dripped with resentment, as if chewing the words.
“Did... you know everything?”
His tear-reddened eyes violently demanded answers.
Meeting them steadily, I nodded slightly.
“Yes, I knew.”
And.
Bang!
“Rockpellicaaaaan!”
Slamming the desk, he screamed the grand archmage’s name, voice raw.
Dust billowed everywhere. Amid it surged the archmage’s vast mana.
Rockpellican closed his eyes calmly, tapping his staff on the floor, ready for orders.
“Ca...”
Whether from shock or guilt toward me, words failed him.
Unclear which, but King Orpheus clutched his face with both hands.
His muffled voice dripped with despair.
“Seize him.”
The king’s command, born of excruciating pain.
Soon, mana-forged chains constricted my body.
And I accepted them silently.